


She

by Slytherclaw2005



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, Accidental nothing is on purpose, Angst, Bisexual Carl Grimes, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Internalized Transphobia, Misgendering, One-Eyed Carl Grimes, Rated T for Swearing (because teenagers swear (trust me my hoes I’m a teenager I know)), Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Spoilers, Teen Carl Grimes, Trans Carl Grimes, Trans Female Carl Grimes, Trans Female Character, dead naming, i wiped season 8 from my brain, no more, up to season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28609725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytherclaw2005/pseuds/Slytherclaw2005
Summary: He blurts the words out “I’m not a boy.”And he stops.Because somehow he has unconsciously said something that makes so much sense, that he had been working to put into words for so long.He is not a boy.Huh.Beth looks confused to the point that she may combust.“What do you mean?”“I- I think I- I don’t know. I don’t want to be a boy. Don’t think I ever have. But I am one? Or I’m not? I don’t know? I just know I hate it when I’m called one. But I don’t know-“Beth cuts off his rambling with a question that throws Carl back, “Do you want to be a girl?”Carl doesn’t even think when he answers “More than anything.”
Relationships: Beth Greene & Carl Grimes, Carl Grimes & Michonne, Carl Grimes & Rick Grimes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	She

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! I was reading some of the very few trans Carl fics here and I needed to write one of my own with my baby. While I am part of the LGBTQIA+ community, I am not trans and haven’t ever dealt with dysphoria or the like so sorry if it there is any misrepresentation, please tell me and I will try to fix it. 
> 
> I do not own TWD because if I did there would be more gays and my hat wearing pirate baby wouldn’t have died.

Carl thinks he had always known he was different, even from an early age where the idea of gender was mainly superficial, dictating the color paper you got for class or who you could get “cooties” from. But as a kid you just go to your parents when you have questions, leading to him asking his mom why he couldn’t wear dresses (with his mom chuckling and responding that it was something boys didn’t do) and when asking why he was never given a clear answer other than “Boys and girls are supposed to do certain things honey.” 

Dad and Shane didn’t help much growing up either, with Shane having clear views of what man was (as someone who is tough, macho, and a million other things Carl never really believed himself to be.) And while Dad would work to give him space to be himself, Carl learned pretty early on that this was something (maybe the only thing as Carl believed at the time) that his dad couldn’t fix.

But Carl was a kid.

Confused quite often about who he was and what it meant? Yes, but his parents told him he was a boy, and why would he doubt that?

Why would a boy want to wear dresses that he saw at a shopping center while his mother was buying some new clothes for work?

Why would a boy want to grow his hair out beyond the short style that his mother kept it cut at?

Why would a boy get a weird sick feeling every time his dad called him “son” or when his mom called him “baby boy?”

Carl didn’t know.

But when you’re a kid you don’t know a lot.

And as a kid Carl knew that. Thought that when he was older it would all make sense. That he would understand or something would change.

Then the world ended.

The world ended and Carl didn’t have the time to truly think about what it meant. Why sometimes he felt wrong. Because the whole world was wrong and everyone he was around felt that.

That didn’t mean he didn’t get that yearning feeling.

That yearning feeling when he watched Carol brush Sophia’s hair, sometimes even decorating it with clips at camp, when Sophia’s dad was off somewhere.

That yearning feeling when he watched all the women at camp work on various chores, while Shane taught him how to catch frogs or skin a rabbit or fish.

That yearning feeling when he saw a nice, styled blouse at a store they were ransacking, just within reach but knowing that taking it for himself would just raise questions.

That yearning feeling when he saw Beth at the farm and heard some of the women compliment how pretty she was from time to time, and marking it up to a crush (knowing deep inside that it wasn’t a yearning to be with Beth but to be Beth, to be called pretty and look so clearly, perfectly a girl.)

But the world was ending. 

And there were more important things to do then worry about what that all meant.

So he locked it inside.

Locked it in with all the times he would feel sick when his parents referred to them as their son. 

Locked it in with the disappointment he felt when his mother found him before Sophia could give him some of her clothes to try like she promised. 

Locked it in with the knowledge that his mother berated Andrea for using a gun (because she was missing out on chores of all things), while both her and his dad were proud when he was able to learn to shoot decently (because even in an apocalypse women were still expected to be housekeepers while men provided and protected.)

Locked it in with the memory of Shane calling him a “weak boy” to his father, despite all of Carl’s attempts to fit Shane’s idea of a perfect man. Because he held onto a small hope that maybe Shane could fix him. And knowing that somehow people were seeing through all of his tries to be “normal.”

He locked it all inside. 

And if everyone else just chalked his change in personality up to him turning cold due to the gore and mess the world was in, well they weren’t completely wrong.

The Greene farm fell. His father killed Shane.

Life goes on.

It goes on as they scavenge looking for anything to survive, and Carl knowing that focusing on anything else other than the hunger everyone felt, the baby in his mom’s stomach, the need to stay alive, would be selfish.

So he marches on.

They arrive at the prison. They clear it and for one moment he thinks that they can be happy. Then his mom dies bringing his sister into the world. 

Carl shuts down.

The Governor attacks, he kills a boy, their group wins. Life goes on.

They rebuild and he can see his dad trying to bring his son back, a son that Carl is starting to think never existed in the first place. So he goes through the motions. He lets Dad play farmer and he allows himself to try and become friends with some of the boys at the prison.

And then one day he breaks.

He is sitting in his cell, trying to read a comic that Michonne gave to him on her last run, with Beth nearby rocking Judith to sleep whispering a song as his sister finally closes her eyes and rests, and Carl coos at her as she makes an odd face in her sleep. 

Beth watches him do that and giggles.

“What?”

“Nothing, Judy’s just lucky to have a great big brother.”

And. Carl’s. World. Freezes.

“Don’t.” He snaps, suddenly overtaken by anger that he tries to get under control, before it all comes rushing out and the world knows more about Carl Grimes then they should.

“What?” She asks, looking a bit confused at the sudden change.

Carl hates it.

He hates that she looks confused at something that has suddenly become so simple in his mind, yet he is still struggling to put into a words.

“I’m not her brother.”

Now Beth looks even more confused. And then she looks angry.

“Look-“ she snaps “just because Rick might not be her dad doesn’t mean-“ 

“It’s not that,” He says, cutting her off.

If possible Beth’s confusion reaches a whole new level.

“Then what?”

“I- I’m- Look I-“ He can’t get the words out. How can he? He doesn’t understand what it means himself.

He checks around him, nobody is in Cell Block C but them, since all the adults are busy with various jobs they had been assigned or counsel business.

He blurts the words out “I’m not a boy.”

And he stops.

Because somehow he has unconsciously said something that makes so much sense, that he had been working to put into words for so long. 

He is not a boy.

Huh.

Beth looks confused to the point that she may combust.

“What do you mean?”

“I- I think I- I don’t know. I don’t want to be a boy. Don’t think I ever have. But I am one? Or I’m not? I don’t know? I just know I hate it when I’m called one. But I don’t know-“

Beth cuts off his rambling with a question that throws Carl back, “Do you want to be a girl?”

Carl doesn’t even think when he answers “More than anything.”

Beth looks at him for a second before sitting down on his bed in front of him.

“Does anyone else know?” She asks.

“No. I haven’t told anyone. Shit, I haven’t even said it out loud before. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Beth I-“

“Have you heard about the word transgender before?” She whispers, looking like she is trying to calm him down before he wraps himself into an even bigger panic.

“Trains what?”

“No silly transgender.”

And Beth talks about a boy in her class that was born a girl, who stopped going by the girlish name his parents assigned him a few years prior and had gone by Elliot ever since.

She told him that there were people like him, who seemed to have been born in the wrong body.

And at some point Carl started referring to themself as she instead of he.

She liked it.

As life in the prison moved on Carl finally understood why she flinched when Dad called her son or why she would get a sinking feeling in her stomach some days when the only clothing options she had were baggy jeans with a loose flannel, that made her feel too much like a boy.

But Beth helped. Beth kept her secret and became a confidant. Calling Carl by her pronouns in private and giving her a quick sympathetic look when someone referred to her as a “son” or “boy” or “man” or “he.” 

They would sneak out to an abandoned, boarded-up office room with clothes for Carl to try on, or for Beth to attempt to style her growing hair. They would talk about anything under the sun with the topics sometimes pertaining to Carl’s gender identity, with Beth one day telling her how lucky Judith was to have a strong sister like her (Carl cried that day), and telling her another day that women are allowed to be strong and full of fight (just look at Michonne) and that using a gun doesn’t make her any less of a woman (Carl cried that day as well.)

Carl had never been more happy, more content to have someone she could finally confide in.

So shocker when the world ended again.

The Governor came, that fucker, and blew everything to hell. Killing Hershel, blowing the prison into smithereens, and dividing everyone up so Carl didn’t know who was alive other than her and her dad. 

Judith was dead.

Her sister was dead.

Beth was most likely dead.

Michonne.

Daryl.

Maggie.

Glenn.

So many others.

Just gone.

But still they marched on, traveling on foot with her dad limping along with her, trying to find someplace safe. 

Eventually, after having multiple arguments and killing a few walkers they find a house.

They clean it up, lock the doors and her dad passes out on the couch.

After that Carl goes on to explore the house some more, coming across a teenage boys bedroom, but more importantly a master bedroom with clothing still hanging in the closet.

She knows that there is no way she could go downstairs wearing anything feminine and that her dad would be immensely confused (and angry and pissed off and Carl can’t lose her only family) but she doesn’t care.

She grabs a white bra from the dresser and puts it on, trying to remember how Beth showed her at one point when she brought one over to show Carl, and after a few tries she finally gets it to clasp. Then she goes into the closet and grabs a fuchsia colored dress, most likely designed to be very short for whoever owned it but Carl was still a kid who hasn’t finished growing so it ended up fitting much better than the longer ones. 

She turns to the mirror, letting the feeling that she got when Beth dressed her up or called her “she” or when Carl would pretend that when Dad was calling Judith his daughter he was referring to Carl fill her up.

The clothing didn’t fit all that well, Carl knew that. Knew that girls were supposed to have breasts to fill the bra cups with and that girls were supposed to look less grimy, less rough than she did.

But at least it was something.

The moment was broken as she heard a noise downstairs and she quickly changed out of the clothes, wrapping them up and putting them in her backpack, hoping desperately that she wear them again soon.

She didn’t.

They found Michonne and soon enough they were on the road again, following the tracks to get to Terminus, a supposed safe haven for survivors.

They ended up meeting up with Daryl after being attacked by some assholes who called themselves the Claimers, Carl working hard to forget about what happened there, and while camping out she discovers that Beth did get out of the prison alive with Daryl, but they were separated and haven’t seen each other since.

God she hoped Beth was okay.

But nothing could ever by easy for the group, and before long they were getting shot at and were running to escape the rain of gunfire coming down on them, none of them getting hit miraculously. And then they were cornered. 

Even then, even when in the threat of death looming above her, Carl was unable to hold down a flinch when the man on the roof (Griffin or Greg or something equally annoying) referred to her as “The Boy,” not unlike that Claimer did a few days back before another man tried to- well Carl didn’t know what he tried to do but she knew it was bad, bad enough for her dad to rip a man’s throat out and repeatedly stab the guy holding her down and touching her in places that made Carl herself uncomfortable thinking about.

They were forced into a train car, where she saw the rest of her group (Glenn, Maggie, Bob, Sasha, some newcomers- but no Beth.)

Her dad was taken, along with Glenn, Daryl, and Bob and then all hell broke lose.

They all escaped, due to Carol blowing something up and letting in a hoard like a total badass (how the hell did Carl ever think women couldn’t be powerful motherfuckers? She will never know,) before they were turned into food for the Termites, since it turns out the people at Terminus lure people in, kill them, and then fucking eat them.

What the actual hell?

Well, stranger things have happened.

Right?

Like corpses walking, looking for something or someone to eat or a one-eyed pirate-man rolling over her home with a tank or a girl being born in a boy’s body.

But more importantly, than any weirdness going on, Carl has her sister back. Her very alive sister.

The only person other than Beth who Carl has told she wasn’t a boy.

Well to be fair babies probably didn’t understand what gender even was, but if anything that made it easier for Carl to whisper to Judith some days when they were alone that she was her older sister.

And even if Judith didn’t understand, Carl likes to think that whenever Judith saw her, she didn’t see the boy everyone else (except Beth) did.

So Judith was back, alive, and Carl was never, ever letting go.

They saved a priest, or a father or whatever (Carl wasn’t particularly religious) and the man brought them to his church, where there was finally food available for them and a place for her to rest.

No private space, yeah, nowhere to be alone and not hear everyone constantly misgender her or get dressed in the clothes she had taken that miraculously survived both Terminus and the outside world. But Carl was more than happy to actually have a place to stay and feel safe (even though her father thought otherwise) for the time being.

Then Bob got taken and he came back bitten and missing a leg. And they were attacked by some survivors from Terminus (who her father and some others killed, scaring the hell out of the priest guy.)

And then Daryl came back with a teenage boy, saying that Carol was taken by some police-hospital people in Atlanta. And that Beth was alive.

Beth. Brave, beautiful, kind Beth. Her friend, confidante, and only person who she truly felt safe with was alive.

And then she wasn’t.

Carl wasn’t there for the fight at Grady’s, she had stayed with Michonne, Judith, and Gabriel, staying out of her father’s way while ensuring that her little sister was safe, until Gabriel fucked up and brought a bunch of walkers back with him on his journey to who knows where, and the fire truck came with Tara, Glenn, Maggie, Eugene, Abraham, and Rosita, who picked them up and drove straight to Atlanta, since apparently saving the world is a bunch of bullshit nowadays.

And then they saw her dad and with everyone else, leave the hospital, with Daryl holding a dead Beth in his hands.

Because apparently losing Beth once wasn’t enough.

Their journey to Virginia from there was slow going, seeming like forever to a kid who had just lost the only person who granted her the freedom to be herself, since even in a world where race no longer mattered as much, and women were allowed to fight, and girls were allowed to love other girls (as Tara showed), there still didn’t seem to be room for people like her. (Because Carl knew what happened to people like her. She had heard from Beth the amount of bullying Elliot had gone through back in school, and how not everyone was comfortable with the idea of transgender (especially in the South) and how some people are kicked out or even killed for being like her.)

And Carl was starting to wish she had taken time at the church, any time at all, to go through the things in her backpack she had (now including a stick of lipstick and mascara she found in an abandoned, rifled-through shop) because now there was nowhere she could do that. Nowhere to be herself, with the constant camping there was no longer such a thing as privacy, which was becoming something more valuable than comic books to Carl. And the last thing she needed was getting kicked out of camp for doing something as stupid as being caught wearing a bra.

The group was all whittling down, turning into the dead they walked among due to a lack of sleep, water, morale (due to the loss of Beth, Bob, and Tyreese,) and food and honestly Carl wasn’t sure how much they had left in them.

Then the world blessed them with a man being thrown into the barn they were staying in, promising a safe community for all of them (pending an audition of all things.)

Nobody really believed him.

Until they found his cars, and later Aaron’s boyfriend.

When they were brought to community (known as Alexandria) they were each asked individually to meet with the leader Deanna, where everyone’s meetings went fine (excluding the part where Deanna asked Carl for her name and she had to restrain down her flinch and answer with the stupid, clearly masculine name “Carl” and Deanna looked at her funny afterwards but didn’t say anything- which Carl was both pleased and weirdly saddened by because for once someone was questioning her identity despite what everyone else, including herself, said but there was no way for her to respond otherwise with the meeting being recorded.)

But they got a house.

An actual house with running water and beds and a workable oven and food.

And privacy.

Privacy that Carl used to her full advantage once the group separated into separate houses and she got her own room. And where she could pretend for a bit that she could go out in the makeup or clips or dress she found. Or pretend that everyone else saw the girl that she did. That Beth did.

It was hard getting back to being a kid though.

Where choices weren’t life or death but rather video games or pool. Where she was expected to go to school rather than take watch or work like one of the adults did. 

She tried to settle in, she did. She tried to fit in with Ron and Mikey, doing what her dad and the rest of the world saw as “teenage boy things” like video gaming (don’t get Carl wrong she did love video gaming) and reading comics (she also loved that) but when she was with the boys she felt like she was constantly holding her breath.

And sometimes they just pissed her off.

Not just for being weak or ignorant to the outside world like she told her dad but for the little comments they would make sometimes “You’re such a girl Mike!” or “Is it Enid’s time of the month Ronnie?” or more importantly “What’s up with you Grimes, does Enid need to get you a tampon?”

Carl was especially pissed by that one.

Because somehow she was back in a world where being born a boy was what ruled her life. A world where girls and boys were held to different standards. A world where being called a girl was suddenly an insult.

And so what if she spent that night quietly crying on her bed, having just hid the dress she was wearing minutes ago while looking at the mirror looking at every single thing that made her look even remotely manly and think about how she could chop it off.

But that was the other big issue wasn’t it?

Because Carl wasn’t a kid anymore, or as much of a kid, and it was starting to show.

With the peach fuzz starting to grow on her face.

With the deepening of her voice with each day, sometimes cracking at inopportune times like her dad would joke about.

With the notice that rather than getting the curves that she saw other women carrying, she was getting taller and even more gangly, lacking breasts that most girls her age would have.

Because when she was back at the prison, with some of Beth’s clothes and her longer hair, she felt like she could at least pass for a girl, now she was looking more and more inexplicably like a man.

And Carl hated it.

Hated her body. Hated that she would never be seen as beautiful or pretty or girly.

And then Ron shot her goddamn eye out.

The practicality of losing an eye was one thing, without it her depth perception was gone, causing her to run into many things during her first week off of bed rest and her aim was practically nonexistent.

But another part of Carl, a part that she wanted to kick sometimes because survival was far more important than vanity, was screaming every time she even looked in the mirror, because any chance she had of being called “beautiful” was gone, replaced with the idea of “monstrous” every time anyone looked at her.

Sometimes Carl wanted to gouge her other eye out. Then she’d slap herself for thinking so.

But any qualms Carl had on her vanity broke when Negan forced her to take her bandage off (something she never let anyone see her without unless they were Michonne or Denise (who one of Negan’s lackeys recently killed.)) And then Negan did more than just look at it, he called it “disgusting” and said “no wonder you keep that thing on.” And it hurt because that asshole was right.

And when Carl was finally left alone after Negan went back to Sanctuary after going on his little murder spree, Carl felt broken. Because somehow it felt that Negan knew her secret, with the amount of time he talked about her “man-sized balls” and what “men should do” and brought her to a room of beautiful (Carl would even say sexy and attractive because Carl could admit to herself now that she wasn’t only attracted to Ron (before the asshole shot her eye out and died) for a bit but also Enid) women that she would never measure up to.

And it hurt.

Hurt that someone, especially Negan after what that asshat did, could break her simply by saying something like that. But it hurt even more because it was true.

So Carl decided that enough was enough, because no matter how hard she tried she would never ever be who she wanted to. So she went into her closet with a bag and grabbed everything she had collected since that night in that suburban house with her dad, the dress and the bra and the makeup and the clips and the necklace, and went downstairs to throw it all away.

“What’s that?”

Fuck.

Michonne was sitting on the couch, in her goddamn blind spot no less, facing the front door that Carl was trying to exit at that exact moment. Because fuck her life.

“Nothing.”

Fun fact: Carl was a fucking bad liar.

Michonne then walked over and took the bag, Carl too frozen to do anything, because fuck.

“Are these Enid’s?”

Wait what?

Michonne had pulled out the bra and dress in the bag looking at Carl with a skeptical and confused look on her face.

“Look if you two are dating good for you guys, but I think you need to talk to your dad about certain things.”

“Huh?”

Carl was beyond confused.

Michonne just sighed, “You know Carl, condoms and stuff.”

The. Fuck.

“What- no- Enid is not my girlfriend! We aren’t-“

“So what’s this stuff then?”

Shit shit shit shit shit shit fuck.

“It’s um Enid’s. She left it here. But not because of sex or anything.”

Michonne’s eyebrow practically went out of her head. 

“Try again.”

Fuck it. The world has already ended. Her dad was literally going to war against Negan. She would probably be dead soon anyways. So what if she got rejected and kicked out by her best friend/mother figure?

“It’s mine.”

Accomplishment: Michonne now looked as confused as Carl was minutes ago.

“Huh?”

Carl looked at Michonne taking a deep sigh before looking at the ground and telling her, “I wear it sometimes, alone. I think I’m a girl. No scratch that I know I’m a girl. Transgender that’s when-“

“I know what transgender is Carl.”

“Oh.”

She waiting, holding her breath for anything. A punch. A yell about how she was a freak. A boy. Maybe just waiting for Michonne to get her katana and slice her in half.

She did not expect to be hugged.

“Huh?”

“It’s okay,” Michonne whispered, “thank you for telling me. How long-“

“A few years.” Carl whispered back.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Your dad? Does anyone know?”

“Beth did.”

“Car- do you have a different name?”

Carl wasn’t expecting this. Hell she wasn’t expecting any of this. The acceptance. The hug.

“Not yet, no. I haven’t decided on anything. You’re not mad?”

“Only annoyed that you didn’t tell your best friend, we could’ve been getting makeovers done.”

“You? Makeovers?”

“Oh hells yeah.”

Carl just laughed into Michonne’s chest, although it likely sounded more like a sob and hugged her tightly.

“Thank you.” Carl whispered.

“No, thank you. I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell me.”

They hugged for a while after that. Ending with Michonne promising not to tell her dad-or anyone else for that matter- before she was ready, before Michonne took out some nail polish and did Carl’s toenails (since Carl argued the fingernails were too visible for now) and every bad feeling Carl had seemed to just float away with each time Michonne called her by her proper pronouns (and Carl didn’t know if it was because of the acceptance or if it was because this was the first time anyone in over a year had done so.)

That light feeling Carl had stuck with her, even when Negan came marching up to their door after the garbage people came to help them prepare for war. Even when the garbage people betrayed them. Hell, it only broke when Sasha came out of the coffin, replaced instead with anger as she fired and they went into all-out war.

Before her and her dad were surrounded and she saw someone-likely Michonne- fall from the building she was at (does everyone Carl tell her secret to die?) and Lucille hung above her head, and Carl awaited death- wishing that she could have been brave enough to tell her dad, hell tell everyone, who she actually was-because screw consequences when you were going to die.

Then she was saved by a goddamn tiger.

Her dad and her found Michonne, beaten up pretty badly but nonetheless alive, having shoved one fo the garbage people off a building, and before Carl knew it the fight was the over, with Maggie and her people arriving along with the Kingdom and the Saviors retreating.

Carl stayed with Michonne was she was laying in the hospital wing, having gotten her own room to lay in as she rested her face and bruised ribs.

“You know I was thinking while I was up in the tower today.” Michonne said, breaking the silence.

“Before or after you were attacked by a backstabbing bitch?”

“Before and no bad words missy.”

“I can use bitch. Girls can use the word bitch right?”

“Look, just because you’re a girl,” Michonne starts before cutting herself off, “Do you wanna hear what I was thinking about or what?”

“Sure.”

“What about Charlotte?”

Wait what?

“I don’t know I was just thinking. Charlotte was one of the names I was thinking of using if Andre was a girl. Still has a C at the beginning, didn’t know if you wanted that.”

“I love it.”

And she did. It fit. Fit far better than any of the other names she had found, hell Carl had scanned a baby name book cover to cover (Daryl had picked one up after Judy was born to help Carl and her dad pick a name back when Judy was nameless) and spent an extraordinary long time in the C section without ever even thinking of Charlotte.

“It means free,” Michonne whispered, “and it’s originally French too, like mine.”

“Weren’t you gonna name your daughter this though, if you had one, are you sure?”

“You’re my daughter.” Michonne whispered.

Carl’s heart filled with warmth, beaming because of both the meaning behind that sentence and the fact that nobody had ever said that to her before.

“You’re like a mom to me Michonne.” She whispered back.

Michonne just squeezed her hand, looking at her brightly with tears in her eyes.

“I like Charlotte.” Carl whispered.

“Do you want that to be your name? You can keep brainstorming if you want.”

“No. Charlotte. Charlotte Bethany.” She responded, because she didn’t need to think anymore. The middle name was something she had thought about, and taken to pretty quickly wanting to find a way to honor Beth after all she had done for her. 

“Alrighty then Charlotte Bethany Grimes.” Michonne beamed back.

How the hell did a day of all out war become one of the happiest days of Charlotte’s life?

Michonne did get out of the hospital wing eventually, being told to take it easy and stay home while Charlotte’s dad took to planning the war against Negan with Maggie and King Ezekiel.

During that time Charlotte mostly stayed home with Michonne and Judith, and one day where Michonne was brushing her hair while Charlotte wore some clothes Michonne had picked up for her (consisting of a purple blouse and leggings) and put clips in Judy’s hair, Michonne asked the big question.

“When are you gonna tell your dad?”

Charlotte didn’t need to guess what Michonne was talking about. She had been wondering that herself.

“I don’t know. What if he gets mad or kicks me out?”

“He won’t kick you out Char, he loves you regardless of if you are his son or daughter.”

“Hell he might not even think I’m a girl,” Charlotte continued, spiraling, “look at me! I’m ugly as all hell! Who would actually believe I’m a girl?!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it Charlotte.” Michonne responded.

“Really? Even if you exclude the rest of my body, my face is a goddamn horror movie! Who the hell would look at me and think I’m a girl.”

“What’s it even matter? You are a girl. Why do you need to pass.”

“Because. Because I can’t spend one more goddamn second with someone calling me “he” or “boy” because I want to look like you or Beth or my mom. Because when people look at me I don’t want them to see a boy or a monster.”

“You aren’t a monster!”

“Really? Have you seen my eye? No wonder you guys keep it bandaged up!”

Michonne stopped there, all the fury she had leaving her body as she looked at Charlotte and made her look her in the eye.

“We only kept it bandaged up because it as healing. I stopped bandaging it for you weeks ago, is that why you keep doing it?”

“Maybe,” Charlotte whispered.

Michonne just sighed, looking really sad, “Here I was thinking the world was done with teenage girls being insecure about their looks.”

“This isn’t about me being fat Michonne, it’s about the fact that I’m a disgusting freak of nature.”

Was Charlotte being a bit dramatic? Maybe. Did she care? Hell no.

Michonne just whispered, “Tell me when you want me to stop,” before taking Charlottes bandage and unwrapping her eye.

“Michonne-“

“Is this okay?”

Charlotte has no idea where the hell Michonne was going with this. She didn’t believe Michonne would ever do what Negan did, and Michonne had seen her eye unwrapped multiple times (as she was one of the people to help her bandage it at first.) But what the hell was she doing? So she just nodded slowly.

It was gone now. She could feel it, but when she turned to look at Michonne she didn’t see any of the disgust that Charlotte saw when she looked at herself in the mirror.

“When I look at you I don’t see a monster. I see someone brave. Someone who fought through hell to stay alive. Someone so strong that I wish I could be like her sometimes.”

“Michonne-“

“Listen to me, listen when I say that to me, to your dad, to anyone that cares about you, you are beautiful. And yeah maybe they don’t see you as a girl right now but that’s because they don’t know. Looking like this, everything you’ve gone through, you are no less of a woman because of it.” Michonne said sternly.

Charlotte just cried, stopping when she heard a noise from Judith next to her.

“Shi- she can’t see me without it. Where is-“ Charlotte started, but she was cut off with her little sister just crawling on her and looking at her (non-existent) eye. 

“Boo boo?”

Charlotte just let out of a laugh in surprise, trust her three year old sister to ask her if she was in pain rather than scream or cry because of her exposed socket.

“Yeah.”

“Kiss make better. No sad big sis.”

Goddamn it she was to cry again.

“Thanks Judy,” she said, freezing as Judith leaned over and kissed her right near her socket.

Michonne went over to pick Judith up and take her out, “Alrighty Judith why don’t we give your big sis a break?” In order to give Charlotte some room to think. And cry.

Mostly cry.

It wasn’t until her dad got home from one his last strategy meetings the night before they attacked Sanctuary that Charlotte knew she had to tell him. Because with everything going on one of them could die, and she remembered how she felt when Negan was preparing to Lucille her, she needed to tell him.

“Dad?” She asked, walking into the kitchen where her dad was guzzling down some food, Michonne sitting with Judith in her lap.

“Yeah Carl?” Her dad responded, hell the name hurt her so much right now but it only strengthened her resolve to tell him.

Michonne must have seen what was going on, because she quietly picked up Judith and left the room, giving Charlotte a squeeze on the shoulder as she left.

“I need to talk to you.” She said, sitting down on the couch near the kitchen.

“Everything okay?” Her dad asked, looking quite concerned. Which made sense she guessed since most problems nowadays revolved around walkers or violent people or cannibals or war or power hungry maniacs.

“It’s nothing bad. Not like that. Just... I need to tell you something.”

“Carl-“

“I’m a girl.” She whispered. Or well sorta whispered because her dad seemed to hear it and shoot up.

“Huh? Carl, what are you talking about?”

“I’m transgender. A girl. Born in a boy’s body but a girl. I’ve known for a while now and I just- I need to tell you in case everything goes wrong tomorrow. I’m sorry.”

“Car-“

“I’m sorry.” She said crying, she couldn’t look at her dad, how could she? All her life her dad always told her to be a good son and good man, and here she was blowing it all to pieces. Because the world has known Carl Grimes was not good for so long now, but she was putting a final dent in her dad’s plans by telling him that she wasn’t even a guy.

Her dad must have gotten out of his seat because her was holding her now, whispering something that she couldn’t hear until she got her breathing down.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Dad? Are you mad?”

“No, a bit shocked,” he said, looking at her with the same blue eyes (well, eye) that she had, “not mad.”

“Do you think mom would be?” She whispered because that question had been burning her since she figured it out, because to her her mom was always one of those perfect housewives, beautiful and perfect and everything that the world believed a woman should be. How would her mother feel if she found her she had a daughter who not only sucked at cooking but was born a male?

“No. No. She would be so proud. So proud. Car-“ Her dad started, before cutting himself, “is it still Carl or...?” 

The flinch she made through the tears must have been enough.

“Charlotte,” she whispered “Charlotte Bethany. Michonne helped me pick it out.”

“Michonne?” 

“She knows, found out a bit ago. She really helped.”

“I’m sorry Car- Charlotte. I got that right didn’t I?”

“Mhmm”

“I’m sorry that you were so scared to tell me. A father’s job is to protect his so-daughter.”

“Love.” Charlotte whispered, “A father’s job is to love. And you’re doing that now.”

Her dad just hugged her for a bit before whispering, “The name Charlotte huh?”

“Yeah, Michonne told me about it. The Bethany is for Beth.”

“Beth.”

“Yeah, she was the first person I told. She helped me, made me think I wasn’t a freak.”

“You aren’t. You’re my daughter.”

Charlotte just cried even more, before calming down enough to ask, “Why what name would you have picked dad?”

“Probably Coral.”

“Ehhh.”

They both just laughed, and laughed, and cried. And if Michonne came in later to see a daughter and father laying on the couch together, she never said anything.

Because Charlotte Bethany Grimes knew who she was now. And for now that was enough.


End file.
